


When there is nothing left to be said...

by islasands



Series: Lambski [38]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Fucking, M/M, Possession, Tenderness, release
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:26:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islasands/pseuds/islasands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam's love for Sauli is artlessly intense... He feels a kind of ruthlessness on the surface, but underneath, the truth of his tenderness plays its song of constancy and affection. </p><p>The song is from the soundtrack from Claude Lelouch's movie, "Un Homme et Une Femme" (1966)<br/>You might like to listen while you read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When there is nothing left to be said...

"À l'ombre de nous"

  


Pierre Barouh

  


Adam sat on the side of the bed and looked at his love. In the short time it taken him to have a shower Sauli had fallen asleep. He was lying on his back, an arm flung behind him, his legs apart, in the same position Adam had left him in after he was done with fucking him. Yes, he had fucked him; and it had not been a two way fuck. He was like a man home from the sea, or from war, or from a long stint working in a mine. He had no wish or need to connect. He did not feel loving. He did not want to talk. He just wanted to fuck.  

And he didn’t want to give a shit about reciprocity. He didn’t want to care what Sauli felt. His motivation was as pragmatic as that of a leopard when it drags its prey up a tree. “All this is mine?” he had asked when he first threw him on the bed, roughly sweeping his hand across his body. “Jokainen osa minussa,” Sauli had replied, placing his hands on his chest, but Adam ignored him. His question was not to Sauli; it was to himself. Is this man yours? Yes. From top to toe, and inside and out? Yes. And are you going to stake your claim deep inside him? Yes.

And so he made him wait while he took his time undressing. And he added silence to his procrastination, saying nothing as he bent down to take off his boots and stood up to take off his pants. He carefully discarded his jewellery. He bothered to hang up his jacket. And when he came to the bed he only glanced at Sauli before he opened the drawer of the bedside cabinet and took out a container. He switched out the light. When Sauli laid his hand on his arm he brushed it off. He bent over him so that their breasts touched. He put his brow against Sauli’s brow. He let the darkness and Sauli’s warm breath release his hunger.

_When there is nothing left to be said in words...  
_ __

_My hands cause you to open like a water lily  
_ _Unable to withstand my noon-day sun_

_My eyes make cellos mourn in your lips  
_ _And on the piano of your breasts I pick out notes, one by one_

_Until my ears hear the pores opening in your skin  
_ _Like thousands of windows, thousands of tiny doors_

_And the sap of my love for you hardens me like winter  
_ _Ready to prepare you for the arrival of spring..._

And so he had not been tender. Not a bit. Not when he lay at the end of the bed and slid his head between Sauli’s legs so that he could press his face into his inner thighs. Not when he slid further up, allowing his face to trail over Sauli’s erection, kneeling up at the last so that he could bend over and lightly kiss and swirl his tongue on his abdomen. Not when he slowly ran his tongue up the centre of his body, right up to his throat, lowering himself then so that he could kiss the sides of his neck, and then his lips. No, he wasn’t tender when he took Sauli’s arms and stretched them above his head, and hooked his feet over Sauli’s ankles, using them to force Sauli to close his legs, pinning him down, pressing down on him to emphasize the totality of his possession. He was not the least bit tender when he said, “Mine,” to those lips, and “all mine” to those ears, and “always” to those closed eyes.

_Oh my love, my dearest love_

_I cannot give you guarantees  
_ _I cannot make you promises  
_ _I cannot set certainty in the basins of your swimming eyes  
_ _All I have to offer is my possessiveness; the flag of my discovery  
_ _Flying over your dark earth; the drops of semen caught in your pubic hair;_

_As light as my fingernail scraping the length of your sternum  
_ _Or tracing circles on the underside of your arm  
_ _Or dragging a line from your inner thigh to your scrotum;_

_You are mine and I, - I am yours  
_ _Laughing and talking and fucking in the pre dawn hours_

And when he crouched down and took him in his mouth he wasn’t the least bit tender, and took no notice of Sauli’s hands lightly fluttering, patting his head, or his hips rising and falling as though he lay on a swell, or the noises he was making, muffled by his arm which he was holding over his face. No tenderness waylaid him when he laid one hand on Sauli’s breast and ran his thumb to and fro across its nipple, while with the other he stroked his perineum and circled his anus with his finger dipped in cream. Nor was he gentle when he slowly pushed his finger inside him, and pressed down on his nipple with his thumb, timing these actions to coincide with Sauli’s semen bursting in his mouth. And when those hands that had been lightly touching his head suddenly gripped the sides of his head, it was not with any tenderness that he laid his own hands on top of them as he slowly licked up the spoils of his conquest.

No, he had been just like an animal with its catch, savouring the wounds he had made with his teeth, gently licking the edges of the parts he had forced open, gently licking the exposed heart and soul of the man beneath him.

And now that man was sleeping. Adam drew up the covers to cover him. He got up and pulled aside one of the curtains. He opened the window and leant on the sill. The night sky looked like the black hide of an animal whose irregular spots were stars. The moon, which was full, was surrounded by a mane of cloud. The garden below smelled of freshly turned earth. He ran a hand through his wet hair and went back to bed. Sauli was lying with his back to him. He put his arm around his waist and pulled him close, pressing his cock safely, protectively, against his buttocks.

_When the curtain of the night is raised  
_ _And we spill out into the streets of the ordinary world  
_ _Where food is prepared and clothes are laundered  
_ _And bodies bend in half to attach shoes to their feet  
_ _And voices are used to convey unimportant news  
_ _And nothing is awkwardly immeasurable or strange_

_At the backs of our minds the sheets of our love-making  
_ _Will lie crumpled, messed up, smeared by love’s stains_ .......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................... 


End file.
